


Goodnight, Detective Reed

by eliasthyr



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Excessive Drinking, M/M, RP, suicide TW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22762909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliasthyr/pseuds/eliasthyr
Summary: Gavin is a depressed asshole. This was written as a kind of twisted vent post with my friend.Gavin is me, and Nines/Collin is fxckthisfxckthat
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, nines/gavin, reed900 - Relationship
Kudos: 13





	Goodnight, Detective Reed

**Author's Note:**

> This is discontinued and I'm mainly posting to make sure I don't lose this.

Gavin’s Perspective

Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick…. Gavin watched the old clock on his counter click away the seconds, the needle stuttering with every motion forward. He looked over to his cats’ food bowls, remembering that he’d sent them over to the neighbor’s. Xavier was a good guy, always willing to look after his pets when the detective couldn’t even look after himself. His chest felt heavy, a kind of weight that no matter how hard he turned and twisted, it would always be pressed against him. He registered the time. 10:56 pm “Hmph,” he huffed, pushing himself up off the dining chair. It wasn’t too late... Gavin stepped over a pile of empty pizza boxed and walked over to the fridge. Pulling the freezer portion open, he found his liquor, a bottle of cheap, 25-dollar whiskey. With no real desire to use a glass, he just screwed off the lid and tilted the bottle back, taking deep swigs of the stuff. It felt incredibly cold, while still burning the back of his throat and all the way down to his very core. Yeah… That always hit the spot for him. He shuffled back out of the kitchen, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was disheveled, hair greasy and knotted, his eyes sporting magnificent bags under them, wearing dirty clothes, and that weekend beard. Gavin didn’t question the fact that his life had gone to shit. It was obvious to anyone who may look at him, that he had problems. He used to be a wonderful cop, loving what he did, saving lives. But something changed, and now Gavin Reed was a shell of a man, not able to do anything right. It was as if Satan himself had come personally to shit on his parade. Gavin’s phone buzzed on the coffee table, and on autopilot he went to check the messages. 56 missed calls, mostly from Fowler, and several from his plastic partner, the RK900. Sure, he hadn’t been into work for nearly a week, however it didn’t matter anymore, he thought. He turns it off, throwing it across the room, and he vaguely heard it crack against the wall. It’s not like he would be around much longer… The thought flashed through his mind, causing the weight on his chest to increase, his eyes beginning to burn. When had it gotten so bad? Shaking his head, Gavin strode over to the counter, snatching up his cigarettes before heading back into his bedroom. He flopped down on the bed, some whiskey sloshing up over his hand. For a moment he stared at the ceiling, occasionally lifting the bottle to his lips. Gavin lit a cigarette, just watching the smoke curl away towards the ceiling for a while before taking a draw. After that cigarette was spent, Gavin stood and stumbled over to his desk. He wanted to write this while he still could. His mind was abuzz with all sorts of emotions as he pulled out a sheet of copy paper. As he wrote, he addressed all his regrets in life and how he was so fucking sorry to everyone who ever knew him. Gavin Reed was the resident asshole, filled with dirty words and anger to hide the true insecurities he harbored. He addressed one of the paragraphs to his mother, then one to his brother, tears starting to dot the page. His mother had all but forgotten about him after his brother had reached success beyond his years. After all, rookie beat cops don’t make much money starting out. With shaky fingers, he wrote one more paragraph, on a separate piece of paper. Addressed to his partner, Collin. He admitted the fact that Gavin never hated him. In fact, he’d grown to like the piece of plastic. Collin was faster and stronger than he was, saving his life many times out on the field. Handwriting becoming sloppy, he wrote that he was sorry the android wouldn’t be able to save him this time. “Collin- I know this will be hard for you to understand or accept. You know more than anyone how bad it has gotten. I’m having a hard time seeing the page now, so let me get out what I want to say. Collin, I know you must have thought I hated you. I was a dick to you, and I’m sorry. You know, I actually really looked up to you. You’re incredible, and I know now that you androids are more than just pieces of plastic. You saved my life on several occasions, but I remember one specific time. I was in another one of my two-week benders, binge drinking and making stupid decisions. I picked a fight with this guy at the bar and he pulled a gun on me. He shot me in the leg and you came to my rescue, calling an ambulance and getting me patched up. I’m sorry. You won’t save me this time. Collin, I’m tired. I want this to stop. I have one request, don’t blame yourself. You really weren’t to blame for this, my own mistakes. I’m sorry I’m sorry” When the alcohol spinning in his head was too much to continue writing, Gavin decided to get a little more drunk. Maybe if he was wasted, he could work up the courage to finally do it. To stop being a parasite on the world, to do one thing right. He knocked back the bottle, now halfway in. It burned, and his stomach lurched, threatening to throw all the alcohol back up, but he choked it down. Finally, sufficiently drunk, he scanned the room for his service pistol. It wasn’t anywhere in sight, he could hardly right himself anymore, and no longer possessed the strength to look for it. Instead, as a last-ditch effort, he pulled open his bedside table to find two pill bottles. Each contained 30 tablets of Codeine Phosphate 40 mg. He had been prescribed them over the course of the last 3 years, for separate wounds, but never took a single one. Hated them, or so he thought. Gavin grabbed the liquor bottle in one hand and the pills in the other. After working up the courage he downed the pills, 30 in one swallow, 30 in the next. He laid back onto the bed, hand over his chest as he closed his eyes. “I fucking did it…” he whispered hoarsely, more to confirm it to himself. Over the next couple hours, Gavin fell unconscious. He flipped onto his side on impulse, vomiting violently, body shaking with every retch. His breathing was shallow, his pulse erratic, and he fell into a series of grand mal seizures. His body forcefully convulsed on the bed, foam peeking out from his blue lips. He was fading away, but the human body was terribly persistent. Gavin’s life was dangling in front of him, just refusing to fall.

Collin’s Perspective

Collin had been pacing back and forth across the DPD, full of worry. No one had been able to get a hold of Gavin for a long time now and he’d been MIA for the past week from work. It was as if he just dropped off the face of the Earth without a trace. He made dozens of attempts to call the detective, every one of them going unanswered. The next wave of contact attempts were text messages, one after the other. His coworkers around him had seen how anxious the RK unit had become and made attempts to calm him down, all resulting in him snapping off at whoever it had been that spoke to him. Collin had even snapped at Connor himself, the one person he feared the most. ‘He wouldn’t ignore my calls… He wouldn’t ignore my texts… He wouldn’t ignore me…’ were some of the consistent lines he’d deliver to anyone who tried to reassure him that Gavin was okay. For the past week, it seemed as if his LED was capable of only emulating the color red. His stress levels wouldn’t drop below 82% and spiked every time someone confronted the worrisome android. He knew Gavin needed his space but every day that passed without any word from Gavin only made his anxiety worsen. Today, the silence just so happened to be straw that broke the camel’s back. He could no longer sit and wait for Gavin to reach out, it was time to intervene. 2:58 A.M. He couldn’t go into idle mode. He couldn’t sleep. The only thing on his mind was Gavin. He kept walking back and forth in the same hallway of the abandoned house he took up in. He was far too worried of what had happened to the man. He knew for certain if he were sick not only would Collin have been the first to know, but Gavin would answer at least one call to say he was fine. He feared the worst at this point. He knew the detective could hit rough patches in his life, but he usually was there to help him out of them. If he’d been human, he would have been stressed to the point of sleep deprivation and starvation. Instead he was running on low power from overworking his systems and not going into rest mode for the past 168 hours. What if Gavin was dead? What if Gavin had died and no one knew about it? That would explain why he hadn’t been answering any calls. It explained why he didn’t try to respond to any of his messages. 3:24 A.M. It was early morning when he finally arrived at Gavin’s house. He wouldn’t leave him alone this time, Gavin needed help, and he would try to be that help. Collin tried to give the detective his space, understanding Gavin’s more introverted tendencies. However, this time, he couldn’t handle being ignored so extensively. A string of sharp rapping on the wooden door with various pitches and speeds indicated the trepidation he felt. A few white flakes of paint fluttered down to the welcome mat every time his knuckles came in contact with the wood. When he was met with no response, the next attempt was to open try to open the door. He wasn’t sure if he should be thanking a higher being that the doorknob turned with ease or more worried because Gavin hadn’t locked it in the first place. The first thing he was hit with was the smell of the place. Three scents clashed with each other and it would be hard to determine each from each other if the male had not been an android. SCANNING: 62% ALCOHOL, 26% CIGARETTES, 12%…. His hands clasps over his nose and in those moments, he was so glad that androids didn’t have stomachs. If they did, he would only be adding to the scent. He rushed back to Gavin’s room, fear driving him through the house at this point. First, he saw Gavin passed out on the floor…and then he noticed the note on his desk. Tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes as the realization hit him, and he rushed to Gavin’s side, scooping him up and off the floor. He grabbed the note off the desk, rushing to the car as quickly as his legs would allow, snagging Gavin’s keys on the way out the door. He laid the unconscious man across the backseat of Gavin’s car and got into the driver’s seat. He fumbled with the keys for a few moments before the correct one finally went into the ignition. Pulling up the fastest route to the hospital on his GPS, he pushed speeds way too fast for a normal driver. As a cop, he knew he shouldn’t be doing damn near 65 in a 40 zone. But as a friend, he could care less of the consequences. When he got Gavin out of that car he swore he never knew he could run so fast. He practically flew into the emergency room with utter panic. The poor receptionist could barely understand the terror-stricken android in front of them as he tried desperately to explain the situation. After Gavin had been wheeled away, all he could do was wait in that god forsaken room far from where Gavin would be. He pulled out the now crinkled note, reading over it.

Gavin’s Perspective

Gavin didn’t feel the cool metal of the gurney under his body, nor the sting of an I.V. on his arm, or the oxygen mask that was pressed against his face. The doctors worked tirelessly to save his life, administering the antidote naloxone hydrochloride among fluids and other medications. For 10 more hours, Gavin lay in the ICU, laying still against the bed, all sorts of sensors and monitors surrounding him. The first thing Gavin was aware of was his feet, they were cold. His head lolled over to see the vitals monitor beeping away, the line jumping in time with his heartbeat. For a moment, he just watched the rhythmic pulsing of the screen. Turning a bit to look down at his arm, pain shot up through his body. Gavin let out a long low groan in response. The extent of the situation was unknown to him, his head still fuzzy from the powerful opiates. Then a woman entered the room, a tablet in her hand. Gavin turned his head slowly to face her. “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Reed. Another hour and you probably wouldn’t have made it. I have to ask you a few questions, is that okay?” she asked sweetly. Gavin nodded slightly, coughing a little to clear his throat. “Okay, can you tell me where we are?” She began. It took him a second to register what happened and where they were. “Th-The hospital?” he croaked out, his voice hoarse and dry. The nurse asked a few more questions, mostly mundane ones to gauge his awareness. She finished tapping in the rest of his information into the tablet, smiling kindly towards him. “Would you like a visitor? He’s the one who brought you in,” she asked. Gavin hesitated a bit before nodding. The nurse chirped happily in response and walked out to the nurse’s station. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes again and dreading what was to come.

Collin’s Perspective

Collin felt tears staining his cheeks as his head slowly lowered. He tried to keep his crying soft and choked down. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hit something. He wanted it to not hurt. He felt as if this were his fault. As if he could have done more. He could have. He should have come sooner. He should have done literally anything to tell Gavin he wasn’t alone and what did he do? He gave Gavin space and from the looks of it, space seemed to be the last thing Gavin needed. He held his head in his hands and cried. He didn’t know for how long. He did, but he didn’t bother to check. He knew the last thing Gavin wanted was for this to happen, but it was inevitable. Of course, he’d blame himself for what Gavin did. Collin could have done more. He could have done better. He didn’t say the right words. Gavin should have hated him. He failed Gavin and there was no returning from that. He could lose Gavin this early morning and there was nothing the machine could do about it. He hated it. KEEP DETECTIVE REED HAPPY STABLE: MISSION FAILED. He stayed the entire time. His systems were practically running on fumes. Ten hours seems so much longer when you sit in the hospital waiting room. His LED still glowed a dangerous red. Tears stained his face and honestly? He didn’t know he could cry. He never thought it was a needed feature for his model. His stress level had lowered slightly from the crying however, so that should be a good thing. It didn’t feel like it though. He felt worse than before. He knew for damn sure Gavin wouldn’t want to see him tearing himself to shreds like this. Collin was trying so damn hard to hold it all together. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding himself the entire time until a nurse called his name. When he stood, it felt like he was going to fall apart. He was terrified of what they would say to him. His LED now flashing red with alarm. As he was led down the hallway, he could barely walk straight. He was entering a low power mode and unnecessary functions were shutting down. His mind palace was one of the first. His motor control was next. When the door opened, and he saw Gavin alive, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His LED now swirling yellow as he made his way to Gavin’s side. The waterworks started up again. Gavin looked horrid, but Collin himself wasn’t doing too much better. His hair was a mess and all out of place. His shirt was wrinkled, and the top button had been undone. He was crying. He never cried. He hated to feel so vulnerable. Yet here he was in Gavin’s hospital room knelt down at his side, crying. Broken sobs that had been held back far too long filled the room. “Don’t you ever fucking do that again, you fucking asshole!” His insult had no bite to it and he seemed genuinely worried. He didn’t seem angry at all. He was so torn by what Gavin did and he just couldn’t hold back anymore. His LED was slowly stabilizing as his sobbing died down. “I’m so sorry…”

Gavin’s Perspective

It wasn’t long after the nurse left that the memories from the night’s events came rushing back, and he had to resist the urge to vomit. It was him, drinking in the kitchen, seeing the cigarette smoke drift up to the ceiling, writing the note… taking the pills. A flash of thoughts came rolling over his body: ‘I should be dead,’ ‘Who found me?’, ‘Why am I alive?’, I can’t even die right, I wish it had worked.’ Despair was only one of the emotions he felt, the other being… Relief. Through the pain and doubt, part of him was relieved that he was able to wake up. He was thankful that he had left the gun in the living room, where he couldn’t reach it. Through the slightly open door, he could see the bustle of nurses, patients, doctors, loved ones passing by his room. The midday light filtered into the room from the window, illuminating the space within. He startled a bit when the bubbly nurse entered the room, letting in another person. “Collin?” Gavin breathed, watching in astonished silence as Collin rushed to his side. Collin’s next outburst shocked him, as he had never heard such concern in his voice. Oh fuck, it was Collin who found him. It blew him away to see him cry. He didn’t even know the RK800 possessed the ability to cry. His own eyes began to burn at the sight, unable to handle seeing Collin break down. The android looked terrible, obviously unstable and running on fumes. The words were harsh, but they held no bite. I’m sorry… Gavin struggled to lift his arm, to touch him. To let him know it was okay. “No…” he whispered, “No, Collin, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry.” Finally, some tears began to fall from his own eyes, his oxygen mask fogging up. Gavin reaches up and removes the mask, coughing a bit in response. Guilt ripped through him, making him feel as though his heart had been ripped in two. “You saved me… Thank you…” Gavin sighed, trying to smile but failing miserably. He was far too distressed to manage a smile. “Please… Collin… Don’t cry…” he begged through shuddering breaths. The nurse interjected, “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. He can be discharged when you are done. We just have to run some tests.” She turned on her heel and walk out the door, shutting it behind her.

Collin’s Perspective

Collin’s hands clasped around Gavin’s as he cried. His hands were shaking, and he couldn’t keep them still. The contact felt like a weight had been pulled off his chest. “How can I not? I should have done more…and I didn’t.” He gave his hand a gentle squeeze, trying to force himself to calm down. “I can’t believe you look up to me. I’m the worst fucking role model and you know it.” There was a bit of humor in his tone. It was the best he could manage for now. He didn’t need to add any further stress into Gavin’s life, especially after this. He saw Gavin’s weak, shaky smile. He knew Gavin was trying to reassure him. He could appreciate the thought. “It’s my job to swoop in and save you didn’t you know?” His hands move to wipe away tears as his LED slowly stabilizes to a calm blue, even if he still shook slightly. He heard the nurse’s interjection and nodded softly. “Okay. Thank you.” He spoke then heard her leave. He took a deep, steadying breath. “Gavin, I hope you fucking know I’m going to pamper the fuck outta you when we get back to your house.” His mind began to wander to the hefty bill that was soon to arrive to Gavin. He knew the male couldn’t afford it. Collin…Collin had been saving to get a house for the longest time now. He had quite a bit of money saved up. It would help take a chunk out of the bill. His house could wait a few more years, couldn’t it? It’s not like he needed one in the first place.

Gavin’s Perspective

A small laugh bubbled up from Gavin when Collin said he was a terrible role model. It sounded more like a sharp exhalation of breath, but it was the first time he’d laughed in a long while. Of course, Collin would be the one to make him laugh after such an event. He was always there, poking fun and making jokes even in the most serious of times. “Yeah I know,” he chuckled. Collin had indeed saved him, again. The thought brought on a mix of emotions from extreme happiness to shame. What kind of man was he, that he needed saving? But Collin’s next words made the thought flash from his mind. “Pamper me? Collin, come on I’m not a baby or a fucking princess,” he protested, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. It was embarrassing to be treated like a child with a cold, who needed to be coddled by their mom. Gavin had made the decision to take all those pills. He didn’t deserve to be rewarded for such a selfish act. He bit his lip, averting his gaze from Collin. “Collin, I want to get out of here. Let’s talk later so I can get these tests out of the way,” he said quickly, trying to change the subject before it got out of hand.

Collin’s Perspective

“You chose a bad role model. Hell, even Connor would be better than me.” A dry laugh was still a laugh in his book. He carefully cupped his cheek with a shaky hand. “You deserve the best right now. I want to give you everything I can.” Collin pulls himself to his feet with Gavin’s next words, “Can you stand on your own?” His voice was laced with worry. “You can hold on to me if you need to. I don’t mind.” He looked worried. Of course he was. He’d come so close to losing the man. He didn’t want it to happen again.

Gavin’s Perspective

“Fuck it, screw the tests. I’m going home,” Gavin cursed, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. The movement hurt like a burning hot poker was being thrust into his abdomen, but he gritted his teeth and steadied himself on Collin’s arm. With jerking motions, he yanked the sensors from his chest and the heart monitor flashed red as it no longer could register the detective’s vitals. He shifted to his right arm and gripped the IV and braced to pull it out. Just then another nurse rushed in, a PL-600 with a concerned expression on his face. His stare darted from Gavin to the monitor and he put it together, relaxing only slightly when he realized his patient wasn’t going into cardiac arrest. “Sir, you should stay for the te-” he started. “Fuck. You. I’m going home,” Gavin hissed, tugging the IV from his arm. The nurse looked taken aback but not too terribly offended. “Sir, I can get you release papers, but it would be against medical advice to-” he started again. “Just get my damn papers,” Gavin coughed, waving the android from the room. The nurse nodded curtly and left the room, leaving the pair alone again.

AN: To clarify the story:

Gavin discharged himself from the hospital against medical advice. His workplace require him to do mental health treatment before being allowed back to work.


End file.
